


Swing When You're Winning

by flawedamythyst



Category: Marvel
Genre: And Some Porn, Clint Barton's Farm, Cuddling & Snuggling, Lazy Sex, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Schmoop, The Whole Schmoop, nothing but schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 21:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20442668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Clint and Bucky lie on a porch swing in the sun together.





	Swing When You're Winning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Villainny (Nny)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nny/gifts), [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/gifts).

> For my Winterhawk Bingo square 'sex swing'. Nope this is nothing like cheating, don't know what you mean.
> 
> Written for Nny and CB, because it seemed like we could all do with something soft today.

Bucky couldn’t remember ever being this relaxed. His eyes were half-shut, idly taking in the trees swaying in the soft breeze and Clint’s dog nosing about by the barn without his mind really processing any of it. Clint was tucked up behind him on the porch swing, legs tangled between Bucky’s and his arms wrapped around him, and probably either asleep or most of the way there, but Bucky couldn’t be bothered to turn his head to look.

Hell, he was likely to fall asleep himself any moment. Lying like this, held safe in Clint’s arms, really highlighted just how much taller Clint was than him, and made Bucky feel small and protected in a way that he’d have said he’d have hated, before he’d tried it.

Now, he couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. 

He’d thought Clint was nuts when he’d first suggested coming out to his farm for a few days. Bucky had spent his whole life in New York -or the bits he wanted to remember, anyway- and he’d figured he’d be bored out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do.

Instead, he’d found himself slowing down to the pace of life here, perfectly happy to spend all morning just lying together like this, one of them occasionally reaching out to set the swing swaying but not bothering to move beyond that.

Clint curled over to nuzzle against Bucky’s neck. “You awake?” he murmured.

Bucky just tightened his grip on Clint’s hand in response, then found himself distracted by the large, strong lines of it. He picked it up to look at it, running his fingers over Clint’s archery calluses and thinking over the many ways these hands could make him feel good. Clint just let him, not saying anything else until Bucky had gone over the whole thing as carefully as if it were his favourite gun just before a big fight.

“I feel like I should be offering you more entertainment,” said Clint, as Bucky laced their fingers together and pulled Clint’s hand into his chest.

“I’m good,” said Bucky, settling back further against him. “Just enjoying the lack of alien invasions.”

Clint snorted. “No Doombots either,” he added.

Bucky hummed his agreement. “That said, those cows on the next farm over looked like they might be part of a global conspiracy to eradicate all our rights and freedoms and establish a bovine dictatorship.”

“Probably,” agreed Clint, “but they’ll get distracted once it’s feeding time. Very short attention spans, cows.”

Bucky laughed, and Clint kissed the back of his neck, then pulled his hair to one side so that he could move his mouth across Bucky’s skin to his jawline. Bucky let out out a quiet sigh.

“I like this,” he said, and he probably shouldn’t have sounded so surprised.

Clint let out a chuckle, right in his ear. “Good. Me too,”he said, then propped himself up enough to pull Bucky’s face around and kiss him properly, deep and slow and enough to make Bucky shiver with emotions and try and press closer to him.

Clint’s hand slowly trailed down his chest, rucking up his t-shirt a little so he could press against Bucky’s stomach, warm and solid and not quite where Bucky wanted it right then.

“There’s no one for miles, right?” he said, pulling away the barest amount from Clint’s lips then pressing back in the moment he’d finished speaking, so that it was a minute or two before Clint could reply.

“Just us and Lucky,” he said. “And the cows, I guess, but wannabe fascist dictators don’t get an opinion on what we get up to on my front porch.”

“Excellent,” said Bucky, and dropped his hands to his flies, opening them up and then pushing his pants and underwear down as much as he could without moving.

“Fuck,” muttered Clint to himself, but he was already reaching for Bucky’s erection as it emerged from his underwear, wrapping his fingers around it and giving a long, slow pull. “Fucking hell, Bucky.”

“Yeah,” agreed Bucky, shivering from the sensation of Clint’s hand as it steadily worked him over. “Just like that.”

“I know what you like,” agreed Clint, wrapping his other arm around Bucky to pull him in close, Bucky’s back flush to his chest, and curling around him just enough to make Bucky feel completely surrounded.

He could feel Clint’s cock pressed hard against his ass, but Clint didn’t seem in a hurry to do anything about it, not when he could be sucking at Bucky’s neck in a way that was bound to leave marks that would be embarrassing if Bucky didn’t have long enough hair to hide them. Clint’s hand started moving faster over Bucky’s cock, but not by much, and he seemed perfectly content to just lie there, giving Bucky the laziest handjob he could ever remember getting.

“Ah, fuck,” he breathed, staring at the trees but paying attention to nothing but the feel of Clint’s hand, his mouth, the way he was trailing one set of bare toes over Bucky’s ankle as if he needed to be touching him everywhere that he could. “Clint, please.”

Somewhere overhead, a bird was singing as if it didn’t have a care in the world.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” asked Clint, because he was a bastard.

Bucky pressed his ass back against Clint’s erection by way of retribution, then let out a gasp as Clint idly stroked his thumb across the head of Bucky’s cock. “I want you to stop fucking teasing.”

Clint laughed. “Are you sure?” he asked. “We’ve got nothing else to do but lie here and just enjoy the moment, after all. Might as well make the moment last as long as possible.”

“Asshole,” said Bucky, but it was pretty weak, especially when Clint chose that moment to go back to kissing his neck, tugging his t-shirt to one side in a way that would probably stretch the neck out so that he could move his mouth down Bucky’s shoulder as well.

Bucky’s cock was rock hard, but he found himself getting lulled by Clint’s slow movements and the quiet peace of just lying in the sunlight and letting this happen. Back in New York, it felt like they always had to get off as quickly as possible, or risk a call out alarm going off halfway through, but there was none of that now. No demands, no missions, no sudden attacks. Nothing but Clint’s hand stroking over his cock, and his mouth pressed against his skin, and the heat of his body surrounding Bucky as arousal slowly built up along his spine, his breathing growing ragged as he pressed into Clint, wishing they were both naked. Who would even be here to see them if they were?

Fuck, he’d never been an exhibitionist, but all of a sudden he wanted that; nothing but sunlight playing over their skin as their bodies moved together.

Not enough to move right now though, not as heat started to build in the pit of his stomach and his balls began to tighten. “Clint, he gasped. “I’m close.”

“I know,” said Clint, but the only sign of it was his grip tightening slightly. “You gonna come for me, babe?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, throwing his head back to rest on Clint’s shoulder as sweat started to bead on his forehead. God, he felt so good, how was Clint able to make him feel this good with so little effort? “Yeah, I’m gonna come real soon.”

“Come on then, gorgeous. Come for me,” said Clint, and kissed his cheek.

Bucky clutched at his arm and came with a shudder and a gasp, pleasure suffusing his whole body in the way only the really good orgasms managed.

It took him a minute or two to get himself back together, during which time Clint wiped his hand off on his pants (which was gross, but Bucky didn’t have the energy to complain right then) then just held him through it, pressing tiny kisses to all the parts of Bucky’s face and neck that he could reach.

“Jesus fuck,” said Bucky eventually. “And I thought these porch swings were just for drinking tea and gossiping about the neighbours.”

Clint reached out a foot to push off against the wall, starting them swinging again. “We can do that too,” he said. “I did tell you those cows were up to no good.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, then wriggled his pants back up so he could turn over to face him. “I ain’t interested in tea right now,” he said, and reached down to cup his hand around Clint’s cock, which was still hard. “Kinda want something else in my mouth.”

“Oh, we can definitely do that,” said Clint, grinning at him. “I mean, we might have to relocate first, or risk falling off.”

“Nah, we’ll be okay,” said Bucky, starting to push down Clint’s sweatpants. “Apparently this is what these things are made for.”

“Not what people generally mean by ‘sex swing’, but I’ll go with it,” said Clint. Bucky kissed him again, then scooted down the swing to get his mouth on Clint’s cock instead.

Fifteen minutes later, Clint made a sudden move just as he was coming and they were both dumped off the swing into a heap on the floor. It took another five minutes before they stopped laughing.


End file.
